Paranoid

Yes. I am blogging at nighttime. It's a bit odd, but I thought I would shake things up a bit. I have been very squirrely the past two days and lost my ability to look at a computer screen. I'm sorry. I missed you too.

One of the unicorn meat eating cats has developed an abscess where a tiny dragon bit him. I know it was a tiny dragon because I have been living in a teeny, tiny place lately and I saw him fly away. I drained the place against Rat Faced Bastard's will and gave him some penicillin and he feels much more perky, but still gets persnickety at times. 

As I say, I have been in a teeny, tiny world just watery with the quality of paranoia. I went to see my psychiatrist but he poo poo'ed the idea of me being paranoid. Apparently to him, I am not paranoid until I am at the point that I refuse to come in to his office and only communicate with him by walkie talkie. He explained it away as something else and gave me another anti-Evil pill. Not that I mind more anti-Evil pills. One can never get too many. One just never knows, does one?

Of course I am being good: taking my pills, eating, and showering...yes, I have done it all in the past two days! And, as usual, my friends have paid, with my need for pep talks, and my enduring critical attitude. For those times, when I feel my head is going to pop off, I have over the counter anti-Evil pills. Specifically, benedryl. Yes, that's the only access to the good drugs that I have, as my shrink is stingy. Did I mention he is fabulously wealthy and sleeps like the proverbial rock? All psychiatrists do, you know. That's one thing that keeps me awake at night...